


Nevermind

by Vortaesthetic



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: An alternate universe where the aliens of the galaxy all live in the same city, M/M, detectives!au, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 03:23:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vortaesthetic/pseuds/Vortaesthetic
Summary: Detectives Weyoun and Rotan'talag investigate a pair of missing sisters and follow the thread as it spins out into an even bigger mystery than they bargained for...





	Nevermind

**Author's Note:**

> Born out of the Detectives!AU plotline, by gauntletto and myself. A little note here--it's taking place in modern times, but all the characters are still very much aliens. The galaxy has just been concentrated down into one happy metropolis. 
> 
> Also: the Jems are not manufactured here and are a sexually reproducing species, as are the Vorta.

"Rise and shine, boss."  
  
Rotan'talag jolted awake with a slurred shout at the sound of a loud slap. His surly assistant Luaran had slapped the day's newspaper on his desk to wake him out of his drunken slumber, offering him a bottle of water with her characteristic resting bitch face. She never seemed to like him terribly much and her generally poor attitude made him wonder why he kept her on the payroll.  
  
She was a peevish Vorta woman who wore strange lipstick colors and had a predilection for matronly fashion. She did her job grudgingly, but she was dependable enough. More importantly, she kept him at the very least functional, whether he liked it or not. He nodded a thanks to her as he cracked open the seal and took a sip.  
  
"You might want to get yourself looking presentable, chief. Word on the street is that the Constable's coming by to see you. Got a job for you. Might be nice to look halfway presentable when he gets here."  
  
Rotan'talag scowled. "Word on the street! Lu, it's not _word on the street_ if he called you to tell you he was coming."  
  
Luaran gave him a dismissive snort, unable to resist giving one last flash of sass as she returned to her desk in the other room. "I'm just telling you because he'll be here in five minutes and you reek like the bottom shelf booze at Quark's. Time to get your work face on, Chief."  
  
Rotan dug a bottle of aspirin out of the top drawer of his desk as he bolted down the rest of his water. He combed through his hair idly while he pawed around for the bottle of listerine and toothbrush he kept stashed away for moments like these.  
  
Coming down to this seedy neighborhood wouldn't be a priority for Police Commissioner Odo unless something important was going on. The fact that he would be dropping by in person--with such short notice, no less-- was indicative that he was going to get pulled in on some sort of assignment.  
  
Rotan flipped open the paper on his desk and immediately grimaced. Bad news indeed. No wonder he was coming down.  
  
There on the front page, in the biggest, boldest font the paper could have possibly used was the headline:  
  
_**DURAS SISTERS MISSING**_  
  
He skimmed over the article to see if there was any relevant information, but it was full of nonspecific speculation and hypotheticals. Whoever wrote this article obviously didn't have much to pad it with and filled it with background information on the infamous family that everyone in town already knew. Useless! He hurled the paper into the trash.  
  
He heard the annoying sound of the low buzzer that Lu used to warn him about arriving appointments and realized that he'd run out of time. He speed-brushed his teeth and quickly put everything away.  
  
The door opened to reveal the Commissioner himself, dressed in his familiar plain tan suit and slick-combed blonde hair. His features were still as smooth and ill-defined as ever, even after the ten-or-so years it's been since he'd left the force. It was a little jarring, but he really should have expected that sort of thing. Changelings were ageless. He wore a knowing smile on his soft, slightly doughy features.  
  
"Good Morning, old friend. It's been a long time. Do you happen to have a minute?"  
  
Rotan'talag grinned at him and waved him in. "Depends. I always have a minute. If I like what you're bringing me, I'll have more of them."  
  
Odo chuckled. "Well, I'm not sure how much you'll like this. I'll skip the rest of the pleasantries and get down to business, I suppose. I'm sure you heard about what's going on."  
  
"Duras trouble."  
  
"Right. Our old friends are now front page news on every newspaper in the city. Everyone knows about it whether they want to or not. Now, I know that Duras trouble is old hat--but this is different. I have reason to believe there's a new player moving into town. Cardassians, probably. And I don't think they give a damn about the rules of engagement here. Odds are, the girls got themselves caught up in that. There's no telling what's happened to them."  
  
Rotan'talag sipped at his coffee. "I'm just surprised Toral went to the media to make it so public. That's not a very Klingon way of going about things. You'd think he'd just take to the street and pummel everyone until he started getting answers.  
  
Odo snorted. "What makes you think that he hasn't?"  
  
"Ah. Keeping you busy, I see."  
  
"Look, I'm just trying to keep some relative peace here. And if the House of Duras is declaring open season on any Cardassian they see, the streets are going to turn into a warzone. I have to keep that from happening, if at all possible."  
  
"Naturally. But why come to me? You have an entire police force at your disposal. Thousands of times more ground you can cover with them than you can expect from me. What is it that you're expecting me to do about it?"  
  
“You live here in Soukara. You're _from_ here. You know the people here better than anyone else I know. You're in a position to hear things that nobody else would even have a chance to. You're also a mean bastard no one's going to want to mess with…"  
  
"There's an _and_ in there, I can tell. An _and_ or a _but_."  
  
" _…and_ I can trust you. Trust is a harder thing to come by than it used to be," Odo said as he scanned Rotan'talag's face. "I know you haven't officially worn a badge for me in some time, but…I know you. And I need you in on this."  
  
"Don't get me wrong, it sounds like fun. But I do have a family now. A son," he corrected. "It's going to be dangerous and I don't know if I'm willing to take home that kind of risk."  
  
"Don't worry. I'll look out for your son. And for you. I'm not sending you in on this alone."  
  
Rotan'talag fought the urge to roll his eyes. The last time Odo had given him a partner for an assignment, it had been a total disaster. Every time he was mismatched with green recruits, fresh out of the academy, trying to pick up his talent for detective work through osmosis. Rotan was too ill-tempered and impatient to deal with shadows and he had no doubt in his mind that he'd blow up and run off this one, too.  
  
"Oh, don't look at me that way. He's not one of mine. He's not a newbie, either. He's from the District Bureau of Investigations. A specialist in organized crime. He's an interesting character, himself. Perhaps a different stripe than you're used to. Who knows, maybe you'll hit it off."  
  
"Doubtful."  
  
Odo grinned at Rotan's dour look. "Don't be like that. I'll have him come to meet you here tomorrow. So you can get to know each other. Come up with a strategy, break the ice, whatever it is that you do. You'll do fine."  
  
Rotan grunted at him a he took a swig of lukewarm water.  
  
"I have to get back. But I'll leave you with these,” Odo said as he placed a thick envelope in Ro's hands. “A compilation of reports about the various people and dealings of interest going on in the district. Your partner has them too. I figured it will give you something to work on tonight so you're all caught up by the time he rolls in tomorrow."  
  
"Joy, homework."  
  
"Don't get too excited now, Rotan," Odo said as he stood and straightened out his uniform jacket. "Remember, if you need me, call. Use the direct line. You still have my number right?"  
  
"Yes I do."  
  
"Good. You know what to do. Best of luck to you. Play nice, now."  
  
\--  
Rotan walked into his second-floor apartment in Soukara Flats at sunset, just in time to greet his son. Tomak'etan was setting out plates at the table, two places exactly. A pot of creamy chicken and rice sat on a trivet in the middle of their table, steaming and ready to serve. The young man lit up when he saw his father come in.  
  
"Hey. Saw you were running late. I went ahead and fixed dinner. Hope you don't mind."  
  
Rotan ruffled a hand through his son's short black hair, cropped to sit fashionably behind his crown of horns. He looked so much like his mother in rhis light... "Nope. Not at all. Thanks, Squirt."  
  
"Squirt! You gonna call me that forever?"  
  
"Probably. You don't have to work tonight?"  
  
"Nah. I'm scheduled to work days this week. Nights next. Dunno, I think it's kind of nice to work during the day for a change. See the sun, run errands. Not sleep half the day away for a change. I've been thinking about asking Doctor Crusher for a transfer to days. Not sure yet."  
  
“Ask. Worst she can say is no, right?"  
  
Tomak flashed him a smile-- so open and free these young Jems were nowadays-- and nodded at the briefcase Ro held. "Bringing your work home with you? It's been a long time since you had to do that. I take it that you're not on the hunt for a cheating lover this time?"  
  
"Nope. Something big. Something new. Something that actually will pay worth a damn. I meet with a guy tomorrow," Ro said as he tucked into his plate. " We'll see...It might be a little dangerous. I won't know just how much until tomorrow…but keep an eye out. Just be careful."  
  
"You say that like I'm not careful all the time."  
  
"You're my son. There's no such thing as telling you too often. Now, come on. Tell me about your day..."  
  
–

  
His visitor was prompt the next morning, it turns out. Overzealously so-- he'd been waiting outside the office for Luaran to arrive and she'd sent Ro a text message as a heads-up as he was rolling out of bed. This new guy must be one of _those_ types, with their lists and planners and statistics. That was fine. He'd send him running for the hills before too long.  
  
He arrived at his office about an hour after that, taking note of the man he spied through the window. Neatly combed dark hair. Pale skin and long, ribbed ears that framed his face. He was flipping idly through a magazine and happened to glance up and spy him looking through the doorway.  
  
A Vorta. _Great._  
  
He smiled at Ro as he walked in, his large lilac irises giving him an odd sensation, like being pinned down under a microscope and studied behind a thin-lipped smile. The Vorta held out a hand to him as he approached.  
  
"You must be Rotan'talag. I have heard so much about you! I'm pleased that we can finally meet in person. I'm Weyoun, the special counsel from the District Bureau. I've been told that we will be working together. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance."  
  
"You've heard about me? Really? From whom?"  
  
"Constable Odo and your old colleagues at the department. No worries, you are quite the accomplished and esteemed detective. They only had wonderful things to say about you."  
  
"I bet," Rotan snorted. "Come on, Let's go to the office. No point in having private meetings if we're just going to do it out in the open."  
  
"A wonderful idea! Please, you lead the way. We have a lot to discuss…"  
  
(As he filed into the office behind his guest, he glimpsed Lu smiling knowingly at him over the top of her emery board. He rolled his eyes. This was going to be a long day.)  


 


End file.
